Sunday Morning
by Mad Jaqi
Summary: Charles Sunday morning's will never be the same. Fatherhood-verse


Charles sat in a large king sized bed wrapped up in a freshly laundered black comforter and flannel sheets with red accents. Grey sunlight filtered through a large bay window on the other side of him shedding some light onto the newspaper he was reading. He was wrapped up in his favorite blue robe and a hot cup of coffee rested on the ornate nightstand next to him.

"Vati, can you shift your legs to the left right abit?"

Shifting his legs to the left he felt his nephew nod his approval and rest his head on his legs. Markell blue-black hair blended into the comforter neatly and the sound of cartoons flitted through the room. Laying at the foot of the bed was Samantha, Freya Skwigelf and his son Alexander. All four in matching black footie pajama's and staring at the large flat screen intensely at the show Markell had put on. He dug out an old VHS player and was playing some old Batman cartoons Charles had bootlegged for him when he was a child. Without looking up he could tell it was Batman.

"Charlies, cans you pass mines glue by yous mug?"

On the floor was Toki and his younger nephew Marquis. Toki was showing him how to build model airplanes. They were currently working on a Boeing 747 model. Paint, empty glue bottles, and various other materials were scattered between the two. Marquis bright blond hair was left un-dyed for some time and roots of white were coming in fast, not that anyone but him, Markell and Nathan could tell. They both wore black flannel pajama's and thick black socks to ward off the chill of the hardwood floors. Feeling the bed shift and dip he leaned back to let a slim tanned arm reach across him for a box of tissues.

"Sarry !"

"Charles"

"Yes sir."

Star's soft Texan laced Yooper accent floated back to him and he smiled as she wiped cinnamon bun icing off of Murderface's moustache before kissing him lightly on the cheek. It was no secret that the two liked each other somewhat. He was happy that his bassist found someone to accept him for who he was. The two cuddled back up on the far side of the bed and continued sharing a box of Cinnabon cinnamon buns. Murderface wiped some of the icing out of Star's blond hair and returned the kiss. He refused to call her Stella for that was his grandmother's name, who wants to do that?

"Afdensen, pass the other box ovar ere!"

Passing the second box of cinnamon buns to Kelly, he went back to his paper. Kelly and Pickles sat in the lower middle of the bed with Allison between them reading to her from a stack of Dr. Seuss books Markell got for them from the bookshelf against the far cream colored walls of the large bedroom. Occasionally they looked up to check on Pickles older daughter Samantha before going back to teaching her younger sister. For every book she got through on her own, even with frequent mistakes, they gave her a cinnamon bun. For a near three year old she caught on pretty fast. Finish book, get half a cinnamon bun. Finish book with correct words and pronunciation, get a whole cinnamon bun. So far she had three and a half buns. Charles felt quite proud of her accomplishment.

"Ofdensens, where dos yous keeps the bandaids?"

Skwisgaar peered over the elevated mattress from his spot on the floor. With Freyr, Freya's younger twin, he too was holding his hand. Seeing his daughter turn her nose at her twin he flicked her nose and picked his son up, much to his fright, and headed into the bathroom. They were working on a large thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle when they had gotten paper cuts from the pieces. Freyr still hadn't warmed up to him completely but would do small activities with him, hence the jigsaw puzzle. Toki told them it would help them bond. From what Charles could see it was working slightly. From when they met in September to now in January Freyr had went from not letting his father touch him at all to sitting next to him closely and working large puzzles together,

"Babe, put the paper down."

Looking down at Nathan Charles grudgingly set the newspaper aside and sighed. He came back to hometown of New York to escape the crowdedness of Mord Haus and here everyone came with him. Looking out the window again he could almost peer around the corner and see Prospect Park, where they had taken the children the week before to play in the fresh snow. Sinking under the covers, he let Nathan wrap an arm around his waist and pull him farther under. A large hair mussed his hair up and soon Nathan was dozing again, buried father under the covers than himself. Sometimes Charles forgot that he was a Floridian by birth and preferred the heat, even if her couldn't tan to save his life.

Being back home sent a calming peace though him. Being back home and spending his Sunday morning with his newly extended family sent the peace down to his bones. It was here in the master bedroom where everyone surrounded that he felt he could be himself. For the past two weeks, he had not donned a suit, he had not gelled his hair back, and he had most certainly not had to sit through hour-long meetings and agreements looking into the aged faces of executives who would not survive a day doing his job. He gave the room a quick once over before scooting out of Nathan grasp slightly and adjusting his pillows.

It was great to be back home.


End file.
